Rules for the broken
by Doublebend
Summary: While still picking up fragments of his once passionate relationship with Sebastian，Ciel receives a mission to apprehend a murderer loose in London．He plans to do so without help from his butler，new "tactics" in his mind，but where will that lead him...?
1. Commence

This is my first Kuroshitsuji fanfic! (And it started out a M rated one...wow.) Usually I lurk around the Samurai Deeper Kyo collections (YukimuraSasuke!! EEEEEE!!!) but I had sudden inspiration a couple of days ago, so here it is. I wanted to make my first Kuroshitsuji FF a bit more dark, sinister, and complex...but as long as it has SebaCiel in it (dreamy sigh) I'm happy. I hope you are, too.

This fanfic will consist of a few more (dude) pairings with Ciel other than Sebby...but he will always be first in line. Ciel is also still the same age as he is in the manga/anime. So if you don't like yaoi, shota, rape/sex (I don't really see the difference, so long as Ciel likes it), jealousy, split ups, make ups (you _are _sad), more sex (rape), and love, then scram. If you love it, and can't wait until I finally stop rambling and get on with it, then this is your kingdom (or at least I'll try to make it as that), beloved prince/ss. Okay, I think that's all. Wait, one more thing.

Disclaimer: Can't forget this, can we? Of course, I never could understand the meaning of this. Most of the fanfic writers here are here to write _fanfiction_, which means _never gonna happen in the real thing_. For example, if I _did _own Kuroshitsuji, which I'm not saying I am, I would have gone on and made Sebastian kiss Ciel in all those perfect times when he could have, grabbed him and *"#!ed him, then made this big show about how he was about to eat Ciel's soul because he was the one who killed Ciel's parents and made his life a complete misery (yeah right), then decided to spare Ciel because he loved him, and turned him into a demon or whatever so he'll stay by Sebby's side for all eternity, whether he liked it or not. Personally, I would go for _or not_, and THEN eventually _I fucking love being his whore-ish pet_, but I'm getting off the point. What I'm saying is that because of this reason, I see absolutely no point in putting in a disclaimer, except for it's use in letting me rant on like this and get on reader's nerves.

...Well, if you didn't like it that much, then why didn't you just skip this massive chunk above and just read the story? Your loss. Reviews are still appreciated, though (I feed off them).

Enjoy!

* * *

Ciel huffed, crossing his arms against his chest, and stared out of the rocking carriage window, watching the grey buildings flash past. Occasionally, he would react, very slightly, at the sight of a tall, slim anonymous figure on the London streets – only to relax back again, seeing that whoever the commoner walking around on their own feet, and not in a luxuriously prepared coach like his own, was not the man he had stuck in his mind.

It was stupid, really – Sebastian was still back in the manor, working on his daily chores and who knows whatever else he does in his spare time. Ciel frowned, remembering the thin notebook he had once found in his butler's drawers, when he was sent outside to tend to the horses because the stable guy was out with a cold. It had been filled with sketch drawings of Ciel himself, and though rather good ones, they were quite disturbing. While assuming that Sebastian had been the one to have drawn them, there were pictures of Ciel studying, Ciel opening letters, Ciel playing games, Ciel in his newest attires, Ciel eating, Ciel sleeping, Ciel getting dressed, Ciel bathing, Ciel _doing things he had never even done.._.

The demon had gotten an earful about this when he came back with straw in his hair and hem of jacket very nearly eaten. There was something about his master's privacy, and that he should have something else better in his time, and why the hell is he wasting paper with his perverted fantasies, and if he was some fucked up stalker –

Then Sebastian must have gotten bored, because the boy found himself rammed up against the nearest wall, mouth covered entirely by the bigger man's. After a period of whimpers and moans, tongue sucking and slobbering, Sebastian had pulled away and, with a glance at the scrunched (but otherwise undamaged) papers on the floor, said "Next time, we'll take pictures. You know how people say they last longer."

The boy blushed, lowering his chin so that the collars of his coat tickled his burning lips. He had been happy, for some reason, the day when his butler attacked him on a full fledged lust ridden demon mode – apparently the full moon does that. He had been skeptical, yes, but in one way or another Sebastian had gotten him to believe. Perhaps it was the numerous attempts to kiss him every time they were alone in a room, or the stream of flattering words he was praised with once he had done something right (whether in his studies, work or otherwise), or the repeated phrase "I love you" when he found himself in the demon's arms, with a collapsing building or dark alley in the background, the melodic groans and pleas of caught criminals as a musical accompaniment to the should be romantic scene. Perhaps it was that, or the new strange, albeit pleasing, softness in his butler's caresses and words which won him over. He had always been attracted, though only up to a certain degree, but it had been enough to prevent himself from ordering Sebastian to stop doing and saying all those things – he had enjoyed them too much. Ciel was still a child in most senses of the word (thirteen was not an age which people will normally go off to an opium den) and was still inexperienced in matters of love, but Sebastian had promised to teach him all that, in due time to come.

And teach he did. Soon, almost every night in the young Phantomhive's room was filled with cries of ripping pleasure, low grunts and the smell of sweat, semen and sex. Other times, it was tight hugs under woolen sheets, gentle strokes and kisses, for a change of mood. What annoyed Ciel the most was, in fact, that Sebastian dropped his act of "playing nice" the moment his master whispered "I love you, too," back to him. He was back to his usual, slightly sadistic self, torturing the poor boy endlessly in his lessons and excruciatingly crammed schedule. However, as unfair as it seemed to Ciel that the former, adoring behaviour was all to coax him onto accepting the butler's affection, it was not as though he was left without any advantages of his own – a little flirting, a rub and a grind here and there, and Sebastian was all over him again. It made him chuckle just how easy it was to manipulate the demon by tugging on a newly revealed set of puppet strings; although it may only last until they wore out, it was fun to see Sebastian bending with the smallest of cute, pouting faces. It was also, in a way, a relief for Ciel, to see that the other's love was genuine and not some trick with potholes and mousetraps.

His scowl deepened then, tilting his head to let it rest against the carriage wall. Everything had been fine for months, and while there was no visible difference to their relationship out front, behind the most forbidden doors and locks, they were equal in right and mind, as lovers. It was recently when Ciel's usual childish tastes got the better of him, and he demanded such orders from Sebastian, to humiliate him and see the normally placid mask crack to blazing embarrassment. The relationship had given him higher grounds and comfort to order his servant around in erotic manners, with no awkwardness to hinder him anymore. That, combined with the power of his contract, gave him more of the confidence to boss the increasingly irritated Sebastian around. There had been crossdressing, masturbation, such teasings that should have been unendurable if it was a man other than Sebastian. However, it was a couple of nights ago when Sebastian finally put his foot down.

"That is the most _despicable_ action you have ordered of me yet, Ciel," he snarled.

Ciel blinked up at him innocently. "Why? You must do it all the time. An animal doing an animal, it should be normal for you, right?"

"Look, I may be the embodiment of sin and all things dirty in the world, but I will never, and I mean _never_, ravage such an innocent being in all the universe!"

Ciel scoffed. "Pshht. And yet you find delight in doing the same things to me."

Sebastian ran a hand down his face, looking thoroughly exhausted. "You're not much better than the rest of the human population, Ciel…except for the fact that you have me. _But_, all that could change, if you don't hurry up and _put a stop to all this before _I _do!!!"_

The boy could feel the vibrations skimming down his side. He bit the insides of his cheeks, wondering if this was really worth it. Mentally, he shook his head. He will not back down in mere fright of what _his_ servant was threatening. His pride will not allow it.

Stubbornly, he held the pitiful creature out to the seething man. "I'll stop it once you do what I say and _shag this cat!_" he ordered, voice carrying the same amount of rivalry as his butler's. The black kitten mewled and writhed in his grasp, afraid of the prickling atmosphere as master and servant glared daggers at each other. Ciel was glad his allergies were not kicking in yet – he had Maylene bathe the cat a large number of times to rid the fur of any of the animal's saliva. The poor maid was forced to endure the long, thin scratches the little kitten had inflicted on her.

Eyes cold and gleaming, the demon stepped forth and said the expected, yet still infuriating word. "No."

"Why not?" Ciel asked furiously, hating how he sounded like a child in a tantrum. "You are my servant! You have to listen to what I say! Seba – hey!"

He had taken a few strides forward, and was up close in the angry boy's face. Swiftly sliding his fingers in the small gap between Ciel's wrists, he parted the thumb from the other four and, with inhumane strength, pushed apart the boy's hands with the single motion. At the same time, his other hand came up to pluck the kitten from the loosened grip, and after releasing Ciel's shaking hands, stroked it tenderly a few times before setting it down.

Ciel was glaring at him again, having gotten over most of the initial shock. Rubbing his wrists, his full lips opened to form a complaint. "You-"

_Crack!_

The sound reverberated around the large room, and settled down as sharply as it had started. In the deafening silence, Ciel could only sit in shock from his position on the bed, eyes wide and staring where his head had jerked from the impact, right cheek stinging where the back of his butler's gloved hand had smarted him.

Sebastian was still standing over him, expression bitter and towering front shadowed. His red eyes stared down at the small figure in front of him, watching as the child's own hand raised to meet the glowing, red mark on his beautiful face.

He seemed to have snapped out of it, fingers hurriedly wiping the tear formed in his eye. "Wha – What authority do you have to hit me?! You are a mere butler! A demon under my control! You – You are not under any position t – to take such actions out on me…"

"Oh, dear, it seems the young master is stuttering," Sebastian sneered, his own rage doing nothing but cloud his usually organized mind. "How many times do I have to tell you it is rude? That, and the fact that you are already trying to find excuses to break your own set of rules. You were the one who made up them especially for this game, are you not?"

Ciel's face coloured, the mark growing redder as he did. "What are you-"

"_You_ were the one who established the rule that we are to be equals when we are alone. _You _were the one who said that we had absolute free rein of our actions, as long as they were the evidence of our _love_, and purely nothing more. And were you not the one who said that our time together was to be a sanctuary, where our conditions" (here he indicated his right hand, the now hidden contract seal sending a faint tremor through the air) "were not to get in our way?"

For a moment, Ciel must have imagined the pained look on his lover's face. A gaze of hurt and sorrow, flitting across his eyes like birds in the sky. Yet the next instant, the hard, cruel expression was still there, and he dismissed it all within a wave of fury that came washing down on him again. "You slapped me-"

"Pot calling kettle black, if ever I heard it," Sebastian growled, grasping the poor boy's hand and twisting him to face him properly. "What about the dresses and corsets? The toys you had me "try on"? The pointless evasions of my release – when I obliged so caringly to yours…and now this? A tiny, innocent _kitten_?"

Ciel stared at the raging man, eyes wide with new found fear. He tried to speak, but his throat was suddenly dry, and his tone cracked with a high pitch. "I-"

"_I_ think," Sebastian interrupted, voice steely. "That you deserve a punishment."

Without even giving the child time for his eyes to widen, he scooped him up into his arms, twisted him around in the air and roughly dropped him back down onto the mattress, on his stomach and ignoring the squeak escaping Ciel's lips. Planting a large hand on the narrow back of the dazed boy, he pressed him down onto the bed before he got the chance to writhe. With his other hand, he took ahold of Ciel's thin dressing gown, and gave it a great yank; hitching it up till the young boy's buttocks were revealed, bare because he had never worn underwear in his sleep.

His hand free again, he raised it to his sharp teeth. Catching the edges of his white, stainless glove with them, he slipped his hand out of it. Taking it from his mouth, he raised the floppy, yet tough piece of fabric above the thrashing boy's rear, and struck down.

"Aaah!"

The narrow surface area concentrating on one part of his pale skin felt like a short whip to Ciel. He cried out in the sudden pain, when two more hits came down in succession.

"N-no! Stop it, Se-Sebastian!"

Sebastian lowered his head to the quivering boy's ear, hissing softly. "I won't stop, _Ciel_," he breathed, letting his hot breath wash over his master's face, as it turned to meet his gaze. Oh, he loved how the defenseless child under him made the cutest noises, even when tortured; how he scrunched up his desperate eyes and opened his small mouth to let out the whimpers and tiny moans. "I'm punishing you, for your selfish actions in the past week. And _you,_" he gritted his teeth and smacked down hard on the boy's rump, eliciting a small cry from below, "will _learn_," another slap, this time on the other cheek, "to take _it!_" This one landed lower down, near his thighs. Ciel winced as he felt the wind brush his inner hip.

For the next minutes, the room was filled with sharp slaps and groans, the cries eventually wearing out and the words inside them slurring and fading. When finally Ciel was only capable of making the smallest whimpers as the glove struck again and again, Sebastian slowed, eventually ending with one, powerful hit, which made the boy's tired body jerk once before drifting back down again. "That should teach you a lesson," he said curtly, fitting his hand back into the used glove, before appraising the still boy with a new light in his eye.

"Ciel…?" he probed gently, reaching forward to stroke his shoulder. However, the slightest feeling of touch made the lying boy jump, and his glazed eyes widened in alert as he did.

"No…" he whispered, turning his face to bury them in the mattress.

Sebastian stood there, shame slowly creeping up, his dangerous resolve shifting away like sand on a beach. He tried again, anxiety in his voice.

"Ciel…hey," he called quietly.

Suddenly, the boy sprang up onto his knees, dressing gown falling to cover his scarlet rear. The emotions were at turbulence on his face – hurt, anger, tearful humiliation…"Leave me alone!" he screamed at the shocked demon, grabbing and hurling a pillow at his chest. "Get out of my sight! I never want to see you again!"

Almost sobbing, he watched as his quiet butler bent to pick up the fallen pillow, and flinched away as he stepped closer to replace it on the bed. Sebastian noticed, but did not make any signs to acknowledge it. Instead he drew away obediently, stiffening his posture as he placed a hand over where his heart should be, and bowing. "My apologies for such a harsh treatment, my lord," he said, in his perfectly smooth, velvety voice. "I wish you now a goodnight, and will see you in the morning…"

Just like that, he left. The small black kitten, which had been pawing at the door for a while now, slinked through the crack that opened. Oh, wait, he turned with his trademark smirk –

"And I would get rid of that arousal, young master, if I were you. It should be _deathly_ uncomfortable to sleep with that."

He shut the door, plunging the room into utter darkness.

*****

Ciel shook his head, trying to rid his mind of that night's event. Since then, Sebastian had reverted back into the stoic, cool butler he had been before his crazed love confession – although this time, much quieter, and under complete control. Frankly it had gone past boring – it was unnerving. Freakishly weird.

He sighed. A small prank had resulted to this. Although, he thought bitterly, to Sebastian, it may have been the lowest order yet. The lowest of the low. The demon was, for some reason, indulged with the feline creatures. He was so absolutely obsessed with them, Ciel had once began to feel the biting edges of jealousy at his heart. Which did Sebastian really love more? Him, or those pesky little flea carriers?

He wasn't sure if the envy was what urged him to test the demon. More likely his own stupid, childish impulses to tease him, treat him as a sick toy. Ciel gave a long sigh. He had wished he hadn't done such a thing. He had longed for the warm touches and breathless words, the wet muscle sliding across his skin, lapped up like a kitten in it's mother's care. He even missed the strong suggestions Sebastian placed while conversing with his master during the day – even when innocent and clueless guests like Lizzy were present, forever smiling purely while Ciel twisted in discomfort under threat of his dirty secrets revealed.

His hand fisted thin air on his lap, fingers curling so hard his knuckles turned white. Relaxing them, Ciel contradicted himself for what felt like the millionth time since the incident.

There was no way he was about to apologize to the demon. The whole scenario was embarrassing enough; he was not used to being treated as a worthless kid, spanked for discipline. But the thing that made him flush darker was the demon's smirk, glowing in the darkness, as he spoke the words before exiting the room.

He had _not _been pleasured. He did _not _enjoy it. Yet he had made those sounds, and his body reacted obediently to the fiery feeling moving in his chest, the heat in his groins. And Sebastian had noticed, and did nothing but jeer at him.

He had not experienced _that_ for a while now.

Still, he was not about to give in to this fight he had commenced. The demonic butler would be the first to fall, he would be sure of it. But first, there were more important matters to attend to.

Even if his love life was in disarray, that gave him no excuse to ignore his duty as the Queen's guard dog. The letter had just arrived the previous day, and if anything, he was glad that there was at least something else he could brood upon, without having his mind stray off to thoughts about Sebastian. He had declined his butler's offer of escorting him to his destination with the shortest words possible ("No.") and had his steward send him there instead.

Which was how he came to be sitting in a trundling carriage alone, which, he suddenly thought, was a first, heading towards the quieter, downtown part of London, to a place so sordid he'd much rather walk up to the (his) sadistic demon and demand outright that he take his soul (or his so-called virginity) right there and then, than visit.

The Undertaker's.

* * *

Yeeeaaah. Anyone can tell I was practically asleep the time I wrote this. I made some crazy stuff up, tends to go too far in detail in flashbacks, and make utterly no sense whatsoever sometimes. Well, hopefully it gets better. No smutty action yet, but I can promise some in the next chapter! Treats for Undertaker fans.

REVIEW! It makes me so happy sometimes when I see that people think this story is worthwhile to express their comments on. I really don't care if they're critical, I'd just make up some excuse for it and work on my problems anyway. So, do not hesitate to click that button down there! Yeah, that one with the green words! Not to be confused with the big shiny red one up in the corner of the window! See ya!


	2. Business

I had a REALLY weird week. My school closed (again) due to 18% of our student population catching swine flu. We were all, "YEAH! HOLZ!!" at first, until the next day...email homework is NOT fun. I swear they're setting more than usual. I actually thought I'll have more time to work on fanfictions and stuff, but oh, noooo, they just decided to pile the rest of the year's tasks on us and cram it into a single week. Sounds like loads of fun, right?

But I was dancing with joy everytime I saw your reviews. Or any sign of you guys passing through my story. THANK YOU *weeps tears of Joy*

Alright, Disclaimer. Now, I understand that ranting gets on your nerves, but today I'd like to discuss how Kuroshitsuji is awesome. First, Sebastian's hot. Correct? Second, Ciel's a cute shota. Yes? Third, the story has so many yaoi themes in it BUT NEVER MAKES IT EXPLICIT. I mean, ONE kiss will do, but apparently Yana Toboso and Square Enix doesn't want to make it a romantic comedy (slash horror and mystery). But hey, that's what keeps us boyxboy fans all waiting. Waiting and scrutinizing every single image with the two together, picking and deciphering every private thought of the two about each other, screeching every time Sebastian _LOOKS_ at Ciel like THAT (Say my name, Bocchan, say my name), and practically tearing dialogues into pieces in a treasure hunt for an isolated "I. Love. You. (chu 3)" Even if it means we have to seperate words or letters from sentences completely unrelated with the topic. (e.g. "I would also just love to get my hands on the identity of Jack the Ripper. Don't you? ...Hakuchun (a sneeze)." Like I said, the anticipation is what spurrs us on in our lives.

...Well, I didn't say exactly that, but you get my point. Dear lord, it seems I'd lost myself while writing that utterly _pointless _note, quoting my last disclaimer. Before you go on, can I ask you one more thing? Have any of you people heard of Torikago Gakkyu? It's from Square Enix, and quite new...I only have the first two volumes, and the third was only released a month or two ago. It has teacher/student/shota/yaoi themes (though none too obvious, just like Kuroshitsuji) but I found it really interesting. Ignore what tabs that says "Shoujo-Ai" if you don't like, there's hardly any you'll notice for most of the time. And Mikage is SOOOO cute.

Read on! (Finally)

* * *

He felt the carriage draw to a halt, and lifted the curtains to peek out through the gap. The sight outside did nothing to lighten his already low mood, and he sighed as Tanaka opened the door to bow him out. Nodding his acknowledgement, he took hold of his cane and stepped down, turning to his house steward before proceeding.

"Come back in a half hour to pick me up. Hopefully it shouldn't take long."

Tanaka only smiled behind his perfectly trimmed moustache, and Ciel heard a distinct "Ho, ho, ho," as he walked up to the battered, grim looking door. Registering vaguely the reflection of the carriage trundling away on the dark glass, he knocked and, without waiting for an answer, went on in.

The smell was what hit him first. It wasn't quite the smell of death he so often had to deal with on the darker missions, but it was still putrid, eye watering and almost unbearable. Nobody said he had to get used to fetid scents for his job, but perhaps it would be a good idea to write it down somewhere.

His one eye adjusting to the darkness as he closed the door, he called through the black veil. "Undertaker? Get out here. I need to speak to you."

He wasn't at all surprised when the coffin nearest to him, propped up vertically on the wall next to the door, creaked open suddenly. The clawed, white hand reached out to push the top of it out farther, revealing a maniacally grinning pale face, the fringe to long and thick to be able to see his eyes. A long, badly stitched scar ran across his face, numerous piercings held fast in his ears to add to the daunting look. "Welcome~ Earl," The Undertaker purred. "You know, this coffin here is really comfortable, despite it's looks. I was just trying it out myself… perhaps you would…?"

Ciel slapped the long, black manicured hand, which had started to stretch towards his cheek, away from his face. "I have no intention in getting into any of your foul coffins," he remarked coldly. "I am, as you well know, investigating the series of murders that occurred around the southern area of this city."

The Undertaker tutted. "On another one of those Her Majesty's underground missions again? Earl, I've told you a hundred times, and I'll tell you again. You'll have to be careful. Stop sticking your nose into other people's business. You'll live longer that way, trust me."

Ciel gritted his teeth. "You call the cases of serial murdering other people's _business_?"

"Why not?" The Undertaker shrugged. "Humans kill other humans all the time. You are yourself a fine example. Except you get good, respectable money out of it."

A cruel smile. "No one who knows the truth has ever actually called that money _respectable_. I am a Phantomhive, and the Phantomhive family's duty to the Queen is the cleansing of rotten roses from Her garden. And I don't really care for my life much, just enough to accomplish what I need in this world."

The other man laughed, a shrill, pitched sound. "That's my Earl. An answer that may easily be found in another soul's lips, but it sounds different with you somehow. That's how I know you really mean it." He shuffled away, picking up his pet skull from a desk and started to rub it with a filthy piece of cloth, his nails scraping the top of it as he did. "By the way," he continued, perching himself onto the grimy desk and crossing his legs. "Where did your handsome, black-clad butler go off to? Grocery shopping?"

Ciel could not prevent himself from looking away momentarily, nor the small nipping on his pink lips with the sharp flash of white hidden under them. The Undertaker, though it is unknown just how he could see anything under that fringe, noticed the minute actions, and his leer grew wider than thought possible. "Ah~, the naughty Earl scared him away."

"I didn't," Ciel said stoutly. "I told him not to come today. I had him attend to other matters left at work, and besides, I can handle a worm like you on my own."

He regretted these words later on, because the Undertaker pouted and wriggled on his position on the furniture to face the other way, bound to make things harder. "Hmph. And here I was with all my precious hidden box of secrets that I _might _have shared with the Earl if he had asked nicely. Now I won't. Hmph." He added, again.

"Stop being childish," Ciel snapped. "I have an investigation to attend to, and it was your fault for asking about that idiot anyway!"

The white haired head whirled quickly back around at him, grin plastered on as wide as ever. "Oh, so you two _did _have a fight."

"It is none of your business."

"Buuut, if you can practically stalk someone and find all _sorts _of things about them, then why can't I? Go on, Earl. I promise I won't tell anyone. Just for my own," A disturbing giggle, and a bit of trickling drool was immediately slurped back up, "_personal_, database."

"Not in a lifetime," Ciel stated stubbornly, folding his arms together. "Look, I'm here to scourge what information you can give to me about the method, victims and suspects of this case. What does my daily life with a simple butler have to do with any of these?"

The Undertaker sighed in disappointment, and slipped off the desk, still cradling his skeleton head. "Oh, fine. I'll let you go there for today. But you and him, not being together for once, had set some ideas in my head." He looked off into space then, the vacant look on his face (or what could be seen of it) apparently indicating he was in thought. It didn't make much of a change, however, and a skilled eye was still needed to spot it. Ciel waited impatiently for the funeral director to snap back to reality, when he thought he heard something slip from the man's mouth.

"…Yes, I think we can use it now…"

"What was that?" Ciel asked suspiciously. The Undertaker turned quickly to him, setting down the skull and clasping his hands together in an innocent fashion.

"Nothing, Earl! As always, I'll be delighted to give you my services in this hunt for the criminal. Ooh, what a thrill! Now, you know the drill."

Ciel groaned, remembering the last time he had to deal with the Undertaker's crave for jokes. Eight hours of spitting out whatever came to his mind, only to have them discarded by the unsmiling, blank look on the man sitting opposite him, staring. It was only when he cracked the sixteenth of his most heavily guarded secrets the man had finally let out a "Pfft", which itself was enough to end the whole charade. Still, eight hours was time he did not have. Tanaka was ordered back in thirty minutes, and he had to get the information out before his ride home arrived. He swallowed slightly, dreading what the outcome would be when he got the answer.

"We have wasted enough time already," he said gruffly. There was no need to explain that the offered route would be time consuming enough. "Surely you can think up of another way to have this payment validated." He watched the Undertaker shrewdly from beneath his eyelashes, anxious of his reply.

The shaggy haired scarecrow was stroking his chin, thinking deeply. "Hmm…there isn't anything I am in need of right now, but perhaps… Aha!" he exclaimed suddenly, clapping his hands. "I have the perfect solution! All you need to do is…" He scooted over, comparably faster than his earlier shamblings, to a coffin lying on the floor near the far wall. "Try out my specially prepared casket right here."

The coffin itself seemed no different from all the others lined up next to it, clustered all around it, from what Ciel could see. His view was half shadowed, however, by the amount of it's brothers and sister all piled up close. The "specially prepared" coffin had the usual red base, a heavily burnished exterior and a winding, thin decoration of gold set plainly around the open edges.

"When you say 'Try out', you don't mean…" he trailed off skeptically.

The Undertaker shook his head so wildly, his long silver hair whipped around his face like a tail. "Oh, no, no, no, Earl. I would never ask a thing so messy of you! If you died then that's one thing I look forward in life gone. No, I just want you to come over here and see how it feels like. It'll be over soon, just like that."

Still unconvinced, Ciel edged nearer to the Undertaker's location in the small, murky room. Anyway, if something dangerous happened he could always call for Sebastian. Forgetting that he and the butler had difficulties at the moment, he reassured himself that. Choosing to approach the coffin across from the Undertaker, he had to lean over a few large coffins blocking his way in the narrow area. It was worth the extra stretch than stand next to the simpering, disconcerting man.

"Now what?" he asked the Undertaker.

"Just reach over and stroke the base, first," he smirked. "That's it. And tell me how it feels."

Frowning at the odd request, Ciel complied and leant forward to touch the coffin. However, he seemed to have over estimated his height a little. He bent as much as he can without the risk of falling and toppling onto the other coffins between them, but still couldn't touch the red floor. Grunting, he was just about to withdraw one hand to steady himself with, when suddenly a long, white hand snaked out and grabbed both of his wrists, and felt something cool and hard clamp them together.

_Clickclick._

"What-"

He stared dumbfounded at his handcuffed hands, then raised his head to glare at the man showing off way too much of his brittle teeth. "What is the meaning of this?! Take them off!"

"You will probably go off in a huff and set one of your friends on me, info or no info," The Undertaker chuckled. "Now, _am _I likely to do that?"

Hooking a strong, thin finger on the little chain that bonded the two, he pulled it downwards towards the coffin. Seizing hold of another shiny, yet rather long metal chain from the bottom of it, he clipped it onto the smaller one he was barely hanging onto, the struggles coming fast and swift. Ciel yelled as he was yanked down, hands planting on the cushiony red base as he was raised onto his toes to avoid his stomach from colliding with the other coffins underneath him. The Undertake let go, satisfied, and surveyed the scenery before his eyes. The proud, child Earl trembling from the effort of keeping his non-existent balance, body a perfect arch with his rear stuck high in the air. He licked his lips, as if to convey the thought _Delicious_.

Ciel was trying to muster enough power into his hands before pushing up with his fingers as hard as he could, lifting his torso successfully up momentarily before jerking back down into his original position, in shock and dismay. He looked down to examine what had happened, for he had been almost sure he could get up with the spring, and found the problem – the larger chain his handcuffs had been linked to were, in turn, connected to the coffin itself somewhere under the soft red cushions it led to. The weight of the whole casket must have pulled him back down. He looked instant death at the Undertaker as he approached him again. "You sick bastard."

The other man let out a sigh. "_That's _no way to talk to an old friend. I just want to play with you a bit, Earl." That smile could not possibly stretch any larger.

"_Play with me??? _What do you think I am, a slut?? I did not agree to this! Let go!"

The Undertaker walked around the coffins, muttering under his breath. "It seems the Earl has a few lessons under his belt, enough to know what I was referring to," he remarked, then reached over and wrenched the boy's stiff cotton trousers down. Ignoring the surprised cries and desperate kicks (some which actually managed to make contact with him) he slipped off each boot from Ciel's small feet, and with them, miraculously, the pants and underwear. Ciel stood, shivering as the cold attacked his bare legs, hands still trapped and backside held high.

Nodding his approval, the man took hold of the boy's thighs, again to a chorus of yelps and shouted orders. "Come on, Earl, I'm just getting you to relax," he said cheerfully. Lifting the light, lashing body up, he dumped poor Ciel into the coffin unceremoniously, before slipping out of his own robe like attire and climbing in himself.

Ciel had opened his mouth to shout a particular name. "Sebas – mmhh!!!"

The sleek hand covered his lips and jaw, successfully snapping his mouth shut. "I know what you're going through, Earl," the Undertaker crooned. "It must hurt to be dumped, doesn't it?" He snickered at the furious look Ciel gave him, blush deepened to a crimson shade. "But think this, Earl…what if I taught you a way to get him back? Better yet, make that butler feel twice, no, ten times the humiliation and regret you did? I can, you know…" he whispered into Ciel's pricked, pinking ear.

"First, you'll have to restrain yourself from calling him here. If you promise to do that, I'll tell you the way. Well?" he asked Ciel, now listening intently, still befuddled. "Do you?"

The boy nodded, slowly, sitting up to move into a kneeling pose, his legs bent on either side of him. The Undertaker smiled and released his slob covered, well licked palm from the child's mouth. "Go on," Ciel prompted carefully, not even bothering to correct the Undertaker. The older man hissed out the word.

"_Jealousy_, Earl," he whispered, unseen eyes probably gleaming. However, Ciel was already shaking his head at him.

"Sebastian isn't the type to get jealous. It'll never work on him," he said hopelessly, the considered option crashing back down on him.

If the Undertaker had been taken aback of the usually closed Earl open this new vulnerable side of him, he didn't show it. He carried on, in contradiction to the boy's words. "Everyone who has experienced love, especially a broken one, can also feel jealousy," he said. "Your butler isn't an exception, whatever he may be in this world. And besides," _That _leer again. "Won't you have a satisfaction growing inside you, every time you glimpse him? The feeling of fullness, that you have gone and defied him, to see another man? The leaping joy of success when your hard worked result is his angered face to his own one-sided, utterly convinced thought that he can't have you all to himself? He will be the one to succumb to you first, Ciel. It will take a little time, but believe you me, it's much more fun. The reward will be his full submission, in fear that you may leave him again. What do you say? Because at the end of all this, he would become a total pawn in your hand."

_A pawn…_ That was what he always believed the demon to be. Just another piece to roll around on the chessboard, a sacrifice for the sake of the king. Yet, something nagged at him in the back of his mind…Sebastian was…

…But he wanted all that glory over his servant the Undertaker listed. He wanted to be in control again, not a cowering child who was constantly at throats with a mere butler just for simple dominance. And if it meant selling himself out to another man, even the Undertaker, he would do it.

"You seem to know a lot about it," he allowed grudgingly. The man sniggered.

"Well, when you pretty much spend your time watching the rest of the world go by, all alone, you notice a few things. Come on Earl, you can trust me on this one."

Now something was definitely bothering Ciel, but he knew exactly what it was this time. The word "Undertaker" and "trust" did not fit well with the basic rules of a sentence. However, Ciel answered without hesitation, firmly. "Alright."

A few minutes later, he was almost gagging as the tip of the white length prodded the back of his throat. Undaunted by his protesting cries that hummed up his member, the Undertaker took both hands off their resting place on either side of the casket, placed them on Ciel's head and shoved in deeper. The boy's tongue slithered up and down, around the length, teeth careful not to scrape the skin as he sucked harder on the hard, yet still dry member. The Undertaker looked down at the small child between his wide spread, open legs approvingly.

"You've had practice," he commented, in the same tone as telling someone who asked the weather that it was pouring buckets outside and that he was blind not to see that.

Ciel growled, his still chained hands not making things easier for keeping still. The Undertaker had spread his legs so wide that they crooked at the knee and hung out of the deep coffin. But Ciel's wrists were still bound together, and he didn't quite have strong arms, which made holding himself up a little difficult. Therefore he was forced to lie on his stomach, with his chained arms tucked underneath his chest, licking haphazardly on the member as he once used to with his former lover's.

The boy closed his eyes, as a wave of sorrow passed through him with the longing to return to the way they had been only days before. But this was to get Sebastian back…he opened his dribbling mouth wide to take in more of the thick flesh, fighting back the urge to retch when the public hair tickled his nose.

Suddenly, he was pushed back, the member springing out from his mouth. He looked bemusedly at the man before him, bringing his legs over and back into the casket. Ciel's small mouth had saliva drooling down one side, the full red lips shiny with wet.

"I had my fun," The Undertaker smirked. "Now it's your turn."

He pulled Ciel up by an arm, into a position similar to his own – legs open wide, squatting, feet still in the casket. His own smaller, hardened member was displayed to the other man in front of him, which he tried to cover with his still handcuffed hands, blushing. However, the Undertaker had other plans.

Grabbing a hold of a hand, he prised one finger to stick up while the others remained clenched, and moved it towards the boy's entrance. Ciel, noticing what he had planned, yelled a loud "No!" and wrenched his hand away from the Undertaker's grasp.

Breathing hard, he looked up at the surprised man's face, and said, "I can do it myself."

"Go on, then," was the amused reply.

With scrunched up eyes, obviously anticipating pain, Ciel nudged in one finger past the outer lips and groaned as the walls enveloped the foreign object, sucking it in and rejecting it at the same time. He kept wriggling it inwards, moaning loudly from the pain as it pricked the sides, before forcing in another digit gently to join the other. When he adjusted to the size of them, he started moving them slowly, in and out, whimpering sometimes as he touched spots inside of him that sent rushes of pleasure up his body, pooling in his groin. He dared scissoring them – and gave a cry as the walls forced apart constricted and stretched, the thrusts never stopping despite the pain. As a third finger was buried inside, he started to feel a little more comfortable, the hole now big enough to deal with it.

After watching Ciel touch himself in the erotic pose, bound hands wagging in and out of the entrance for a while, the Undertaker set out some more of the numerous tips he had shared with the young Earl in the art of seducement. "If you let out more of those cute cries and squeals, Earl, they're most likely to become turned on," he said, smiling deviously. "Try slurring your words a bit when they do things to you – stuff like 'No' and 'There'…or, have you already got that bit covered?"

He chuckled again when Ciel shot one of his infamous glares at him, which was ruined as his lids drooped halfway to lust, and a tremor of a cry escaped his lips as he accidentally brushed upon a sweet spot. The Undertaker sensed the climax coming, and had Ciel tug his fingers out from their eager thrusts, much to the boy's dismay. As his breathing rate returned to normal, he croaked out a few words.

"Why'd you…stop me…"

The older man swept an arm underneath the boy's legs, the other one steadying his back. "Because, then you wouldn't be able to stand for this," he smiled, lifting Ciel over to his lap. Aligning his member carefully, the tip nudging the boy's heated skin, he tilted his face upwards, grinning fully at the dawning panic on the boy's face.

"Ready?" and he pushed the boy onto the standing phallus.

"Nooouuaaargh!!"

It was larger than the three of his fingers, but luckily not enough to tear. Even so, the pain was excruciating – he had experienced worse before, all thanks to you-know-who, yet the tearing feeling between his buttocks was almost unbearable. Fighting back sobs, Ciel spread his legs as far as they could go in the casket, which was unfortunately not so wide. He ended up straddling the Undertaker's waist, length still deep inside of him. His cuffed hands were held clasped to his chest, his eyes were shut tight.

Even to the Undertaker, the tight feeling wrapped around his member was almost enough to come immediately. Through the heat and sweat he told Ciel, "Move, Earl."

The soles of weak feet gripped the cushioned floor and pushed slightly – he only made a few centimeters off the base before plunging back down again, with whimpers through gritted teeth. The Undertaker shook his head.

"That won't do. You need to be wilder, more deeper to be able to seduce anyone!"

Panting loudly, with his mouth hanging slack, Ciel rose higher this time before dropping swiftly back down to sharp cries of pain and pleasure. Without so much as a pause, he lifted himself off again, before repeating the previous action and penetrating himself with the object below. Soon he started to find a rhythm; tilting forward as he rose and settling down to repeat the sequence again, harder, faster, the riding movements getting harsher. The bouncing on the Undertaker's lap continued endlessly, the room filled with rapid breathing, moans and little screams.

"Ah, ah, nnah! Aahn, nmmaa, ahah…"

Ciel's voice grew louder and louder, pitch heightening along with the volume. The heat was building up, too, and he wouldn't be able to hold it in any longer.

"Oh, ohah, _god_, aaha, un, naah…"

It shouldn't be much longer…this was getting unbearable. He couldn't touch himself with his arms trapped between the Undertaker's body and his own as they pressed together, bare skin rubbing together as they both rocked to the movement. Finally, the name dropped from his mouth, as it always did when they got to this stage.

"_Haahn_, Se-ah, aah, _Sebastian_, ha-"

"Did you call, young master?"

The bouncing motion froze instantaneously, as Ciel turned around above his waist, wide-eyed, to appraise the dark figure in the doorway. He had not heard it open, so wasn't sure how long the other had been standing there with the door ajar, but his heart flooded with something as he took in the man watching their performance. It felt like relief, but there was a certain small twist he couldn't put his finger on.

The Undertaker was peering out from underneath Ciel's small frame, a little sheepishly. "Oh, dear, it looks like we've been caught, Earl."

He suddenly leant forward to capture Ciel's stunned lips, but missed – nevertheless, the sudden attack sent Ciel reeling as far as he could go still seated on the Undertaker's lap, fully sheathed.

"What are you-"

He broke off, as a small moan escaped him as the member inside of him brushed against his prostrate, causing him to rock back again. In a flash, Sebastian was at the casket's side, placing his hands under each of the child's armpits and pulling him out, and up. Ciel whimpered as he felt himself ripped from the still completely hard length, puckered hole squeezing from the loss. The chains linking him to the coffin had suddenly disappeared, fine pieces of metal scattering the floor beneath them. His bare body was flung across the butler's arms, and he found himself in a familiar position as he was held against the broad, black jacketed chest. In the next fluid motion his wrists were separated, the chain bounding them severed just like the larger ones. Sebastian moved without hesitation, sliding between the rows of coffins, bending once in a while to pick up discarded articles of clothing and Ciel's cane.

"Aww, come now, Butler," The Undertaker whined, clambering up into a sitting arrangement, arms dangling from the side of the coffin. "We haven't even come once yet!"

"I am well aware of that," Sebastian said curtly, glancing at the apparent clean state of the room and his master. "However, the young master has lessons for the day as well. Without me to keep his schedule correct and on time, he would have probably stayed here playing for ever." There was an edge to Sebastian's voice – Ciel wondered if he was imagining it, or if the butler was shaking very, very slightly under him.

The tall, fully clothed man picked up the last remaining clothing, flung his own coat onto Ciel's hard-on (Ciel glowed a perfect scarlet as he realized it was still standing – if anything, it was getting worse as he stayed in Sebastian's arms) and promptly marched out of the door, bowing once with a "Good day. I will expect the information you owe us to be sent to us tomorrow," before shutting out the beam of sunlight from the shop, and the Undertaker's protesting and comments on how he disliked writing from the outside world.

The horse carriage was waiting nearby. There was no one about in the dusty part of the town here, so luckily for Ciel, nobody saw the small boy being carried around like a princess in a fairy tale by the handsome, blank faced man. The child let out a sound not unlike a squeak as he was virtually tossed into the coach, his clothes along with him. Sebastian spoke sternly to the naked boy kneeling in the middle of the cushy seats, pieces of clothing scattered all around him.

"Draw the curtains and dress on the way. I will take you directly to the Phantomhive manor."

Ciel looked absolutely livid that he was to be treated this way, but put insults on hold as he asked the more important questions.

"Tanaka-"

"I have finished all the work you had set for me today. I thought it be far proper for me to come pick you up rather than Tanaka-san. And it seems," his red eyes scanned the boy's body. "That I had been right."

Ciel fought back the hotness rising to his face. "The information the Undertaker has about the murders," he spoke urgently. "How do you know if he-"

Sebastian cut him off again. "Oh, I will make _sure _that he does so," he said, voice rather close to a snarl. Looking up at the demon's face, Ciel felt a wave of nausea and shyness. The expression was cold, uncaring, but the eyes – usually the colour of darkest blood, now sparkled out at him, the inhumane, cat-like pupils showing clearly, contrasted by the glowing ruby irises. Having nothing more to say, and if he had it had been washed away by the blinding beauty, Ciel retreated back to hug the large coat to cover himself. Looking at the quiet boy a second longer, Sebastian also closed the door and proceeded to the driver's seat.

During the long ride Ciel did as he was told – he had gotten far better at dressing himself due to the frequent times he had been jumped at in unexpected times by the demon, although the butler still insisted that he dress his "little doll" up like always. Nowadays however, he mused sadly to himself, there had not been any sexual contact between them whatsoever. With the Undertaker had been the first for days, and he wondered what Sebastian was thinking after he found the two of them having sex together. His mind lightened up as he contemplated the thought that maybe, the Undertaker had been right, and even _Sebastian _could be made jealous.

No matter what the little practice he had at dressing concluded in, Ciel still managed to look a little ragged than in the morning when they reached the manor house hours later. It was already dark out, the stars winking at them from between the thick branches of towering trees, the silent, stony mansion looming up at them before the drive. However, there was still lights on, and the door was flung open as Sebastian brought the couch round.

"Sebastian-sa~n!"

Straw hat flying behind him as he rushed out to greet them, Finnian leapt down the steps as Sebastian stepped from his place at the driver's seat.

"Sebastian-san, Bard-san melted that new fridge we got-"

"Not right now, Finny," Sebastian said brusquely, striding towards the passenger carriage and flinging the door open. Finnian watched, perplexed, as yells of "Sebastian! Wait, don't you even-!!" sounded from the open couch, before the poker faced butler reemerged with a grouchy little count in his arms. Leaving the gardener staring at them, mouth agape, Sebastian called down to him as he started up the steps to towards the entrance. "Go put the carriage and horses back. Hurry up, or I'll lock you out for the night."

The other servants seemed to be preoccupied with their duties, judging from the screams and yelled jumble of commands coming from the kitchen below, so the pair met nothing on their way. Ciel knew that they were heading for his room as soon as they started up the main staircase (he had trouble stifling the relieved sigh to see they were not heading towards Sebastian's quarters) but dared not say anything, as though the slightest sound would crack the barrier somehow protected, in turn, by the silence. Down the winding passages they went, a shaft of dim light flooding in from an open window as the moon shone down at the house. Sill neither said a word.

The door to his bedroom was gently pushed open, and a candle was suddenly lit to give some light into the murky room. In four large strides Sebastian had crossed the room, and Ciel found himself thrown at the soft mattress, bouncing on it as he landed.

He bristled, but sat up to look at the immobile figure before him. "Well? What are ou going to do with me, demon?"

Inside he had a sort of anticipation – he had been so ready at the Undertaker's, he half expected Sebastian to offer his services instead. Or hoped.

Instead, much to his surprise and flaring anger, Sebastian spoke in a dull, emotionless voice. "We need to get you bathed and into bed. It is already so late, young master."

He turned away, with intentions of moving to the bathroom in the next room, the cold tub being empty and uninviting. Ciel's sharp voice broke through the gloom.

"Is that…all you have to say?"

Sebastian did not turn back around. He stopped, but kept his red eyes staring forward. For a time he considered giving his usual prompting question, as though he didn't understand. However, he was not in the mood, unable to control himself if the situation was to drawl on.

"…It is not my business of what the young master chooses to do, and who he may have in his company if it his wishes. I cannot allow myself to intrude upon your every concern."

There was no immediate answer on the other side this time, too. Ciel hugged his knees tightly, looking away from the back of his butler and out at the night, through a window on the side. A sigh fell from his chapped lips.

"…Not your business…"

Sebastian tilted his head slightly, looking through the corners of his eyes at the small, crouching figure on the four poster bed behind him. "Young master?"

"I will bathe and dress myself tonight, Sebastian. Get the hot water running and tell me when it's ready."

Sebastian started. "But, young master-"

"Go attend to the kitchens after that. See to it that we have a new refrigerator by the day after tomorrow. Also confiscate whatever weapon that moron used to melt it in the first place."

Sebastians's eyes had darkened, looking down at the floor before him. His voice had a suddenly tender texture to it's silkiness. "…Ciel…"

If the boy had heard, he might as well have not felt anything from the use of the name so gently murmured, as he continued with his orders in a brisk tone. "I will see you in the morning, when you will resume your normal tasks. Go, now."

Sebastian raised his gaze from the carpeted floor, taking a step forward towards the door again. "Yes, my lord."

Soft footsteps padded across the thick rug, fading as the polished shoes walked away, away. The candle bar was left on the stand as he exited the room. It's single flame flickered as the door closed shut with a inaudible click, but the child in the room never let his gaze waver from the moon outside of the window.

* * *

I'm beginning to think both Ciel and Sebastian are idiots. Don't you? ...Alright, so it's my fanfiction, I can make them as oblivious to each other as I want. And how sadistic I can portray myself in them, ha ha.

So…finally something naughty! Ow…headache, headache…it's not like I'm not under informed, but thinking too much of yaoi can affect the clear circulation of a person's blood cells in their brain…or maybe I just hit my head on the top of my bunk bed way too many times. By jerking up awake in the middle of night due to SUDDEN INSPIRATION 8D

I realize that the cat idea was...er, a long shot from _disturbing _(yeah, a long shot by a few thousand miles. I have impressive balling skills), and you could say it was ______________(fill statement of profanity and/or sympton of mental distress here), but I just wanted the wackiest thing possible, seeing as I adore animals and will NEVER, and I mean NEVER, write or image something like that EVER AGAIN. Although I have no problem in fantasizing my favourite shota characters dressed up as cuddly animals. Eek.

R&R! I wonder, I wonder, what I should do with the next chapter? Fufufu...MUAHAHAHAHAAA. Actually, I should really start with the main plot, this (I'm) is getting annoying...


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